


Conversations

by Jadesfire



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 10:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesfire/pseuds/Jadesfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For once, Jack isn't the one doing the talking</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations

**Author's Note:**

> Timestamp for Beating Time: four days later

Tish was trembling when she brought him his dinner. The tin and cutlery rattled on the metal tray, loud even over the constant rumbling of the engine. It took her three attempts to get the tepid mush onto the spoon, and another two to get it to his mouth without spilling it all over the floor.

"Sorry," she mumbled, not meeting his eye.

"What happened?" They were keeping their voices low, although normally Jack would have kept the conversation brisk and lively. Somehow, he didn't think she was in the mood for jokes about being a kept man today.

"Japan." She shoved more of the goop into his mouth, the spoon clattering against his teeth as her hand shook more violently. "We had to stand there, right on the bridge and watch." Her voice was hard and cold and he could hear the effort each word was costing her. "He burned it to ashes and he made us watch."

"Tish-" he began only to be cut off by another spoonful, making him wince as the metal connected with his teeth again.

"There's nothing you can say," she hissed, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes that stirred up all the anger he'd been fighting back. "Nothing. Just promise me something."

Swallowing with a little difficulty, Jack nodded, forcing himself to stay calm. She didn't need him doing anything more stupid than usual right now. Even so, he felt the metal cuffs bite into his wrists as he clenched his fists, trying to get himself under control.

Before she could speak, another voice broke into their conversation, making Jack jerk in surprise, wrenching his shoulder and sending shocks of pain down his arm.

"Yes, Miss Jones, please tell us what you had in mind."

Saxon was standing at the other end of the walkway, watching them both with that amused half-smile that Jack had come to recognise as more dangerous than his scowls. Apparently Tish recognised it too, because the spoon fell from her fingers, hitting the grating with a clang that seemed to echo forever. Ducking her head, she made no attempt to retrieve it, stepping away from Jack and picking up the tray as quickly as she could. Before she turned to flee, she looked back at him with a look of guilt and fear and something that could have been relief.

He forced a slight smile onto his face, trying to comfort and reassure in that single glance. It didn't matter that his stomach was turning in knots or that he'd seen the low, covered trolley that had been wheeled in behind Saxon. There was no way in hell that he was showing fear, not with this terrified girl in the room and Saxon watching them both. So he smiled for Tish, letting her escape the room with at least a shred of hope intact, because that was all he had for her then and there.

Keeping his eyes on the door after she was gone, Jack took a few deep breaths, trying to centre himself again. Only once he felt his heartbeat begin to slow and some of the tension ease from his shoulders did he look across to Saxon. There was no room for emotion here, no space in Jack's head for anything but the cold calmness which kept reminding him that, no matter what, he would survive.

Saxon clapped his hands in mock-applause. "Oh, yes, Captain. Very impressive. You're quite the professional, aren't you? I, on the other hand, am merely a talented amateur." With a swift movement, he tugged the cover from the trolley. The lights made the sharp edges of the implements glow fiery red. Pulling the trolley with him, Saxon began a slow saunter towards Jack, still smiling that strange smile and talking in that cheerful, expressive voice, making Jack's blood run cold. "I was most disappointed that you didn't want to talk to me the other day," Saxon said lightly. "Most disappointed, because I did so want to listen to you. Still, never mind." Almost dreamily, he picked up one of the scalpels, watching the light play across the blade. "I suppose I shall just have to make do with hearing you scream."

Jack took another deep breath, closing his mouth and promising himself that, no matter what, he wasn't going to make a sound. He closed his eyes as Saxon gently pressed the sharp point against the base of his neck. Not a sound, he reminded himself, not a word, not a scream.

But this was really going to hurt.


End file.
